



QUAKER HILL 
S E R I E S 



XV. Un Xovino 

IRemembrance of 

Enn Iba^es 



BY 



MRS. WARREN H. WILSON 




prese.\ti:d liY 



In Loving Remembrance 

OF 

ANN HAYES 



BY 



MRS. WARREN H. WILSON 



READ AT THE SEVENTH ANNUAL MEETING OF 

QUAKER HILL CONFERENCE, SEPTEMBER 

THE EIGHTH, NINETEEN HUNDRED 

AND FIVE 



PUBUSHED BY THE QUAKER HiLL CONFERENCE ASSOCIATION, 

Quaker Hill, New York 
1906 



Piiblicdiions 



Of the Quaker Hill Conference Association 

A Critjcal Study of the Bible, by Rev Nawton M. 
Hall of Springfield, Mass. 

Th«« Relation of the Church at Home to the 
Church Abroad, by Rev. George William Knox, D. D.. of 
New York. 

A Tenable Theory of Biblical Inspiration, by 

Prof. Irving Francis Wood, Ph. D., of Northampton, Mass. 

The Book Farmer, by Edward H. Jenkins, Ph. D., of 
New Haven, Conn. 

LOCAL HISTORY SERIES 

David Irish—A Memoir, by his daughter, Mrs. Phoebe 
T. Wanzer of Quaker Hill, N. Y. 

Quaker Hill in the Eighteenth Century, by Rev. 
Warren H. Wilson of Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Quaker Hill in the Nineteenth Century, by Rev. 
Warren H, Wilson of Brooklyn. N. Y. 

Hiram B. Jones and His School, by Rev. Edward L. 
Chichester of Quaker Hill, N. Y. 

Richard Osborn — A Reminiscence, by Margaret B. 
Monahan of Quaker Hill, N, Y. 

Albert J. Akin— A Tribute,,by Rev. Warren H. Wilson 
Of Brookfyu. N. Y, .'. : 

Ancient Homes and E,ai^iy'Days at Quaker Hill, 

by Amanda Akin Stearns of Quaker Hill, N. Y, 

Thomas Taber and Edward Shove— A Reminiscence 

— by Rev. Benjamin Shove of New York, 

Some Glimpses of the Fast, by Alicia Hopkins 
Taber of Pawling, N. Y. 

The Purchase Meeting:, by James Wood of Mt. 
Kisco, N. Y. 

In Loving Remembrance of Ann Hayes, by Mrs. 
Warren H. Wilson of Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Any on© of these publications may be had by addressing 
tbi9 SecretAry, Rev. Edward L. Chichertbr, 

Quaker Hill, N. T 
Price Ten CenU. Tvelve CenU Postpaid. 



Gift 






^ IN LOVING REMEMBRANCE 



OF ANN HAYES. 



A little figure with fair white hair parted 
above a delicate face, stands in an open 
door, with hands outstretched, and a 
sweet-spoken word of welcome. It may 
be she stands in the front door, as you 
come up the stone steps between the 
banked lawn; or maybe she waits at the 
back door, under the spreading apple tree; 
but you cannot pass without obeying the 
gently imperious lady; you step in to 
receive from her some attention, be it only 
a word of inquiry, showing her friendly 
interest and knowledge of your life. If 
you can be prevailed upon to stay, how 
anxious she is that you have the best chair 
and how she busies herself that you may 
be at ease. 

How many who pass the white house 
on the corner still see, in memory, dear 
Aunt Ann, as we loved to call her, at the 
door to greet them and are made better 



men and women for the vision of this 
quiet, loving woman. She lives in our 
hearts and it seems scarcely necessary that 
anything should be written of a life so 
recorded; but many have expressed the 
wish that a tribute be paid to her, and as 
she was ever ready to serve others, 1 
accept this task gladly for her. 

If you drive along the upper road of 
Quaker Hill, past the Old Meeting House, 
for a mile or so, you come to a red farm 
house. A century ago, on a fair summer 
day a slender, bright-faced maiden of 
seventeen was standing in that doorway, 
waiting for some one to come riding up the 
road. Wearied by her watch, she runs out 
to the orchard to gather some of the 
luscious pears then ripe. She is scarcely 
gone when a man of thirty comes riding 
up on horseback, a pillion behind his sad- 
dle. Most energetically does he scold 
when his lady is not at the gate to mount 
immediately. Here she comes through 
the sunshine and shade of the orchard, her 
hands filled with pears. He bids her 
mount quickly behind him if she wants to 
be married that day. Away they ride to 
the Justice, and thus are John Toffey and 
Esther Akin made man and wife, and 



return to a supper of bread and milk, 
which was all the wedding feast set forth 
for them by a step-mother. He took his 
bride to his home on the S. W. corner of 
the roads crossing east of Mizzen Top 
Hotel. He carried on business for years 
in the store which stood a little west of the 
present house. Azariah Quimby was in 
the early days his partner. James Craft 
clerked there before taking the store two 
miles north. John Hayes was also a clerk 
there and conducted a tailor-shop ad- 
joining. 

Esther Toffey, or Aunt E., as her friends 
call her, was a bright, social woman, an 
excellent story-teller, fond of entertaining; 
she was a great reader, always keeping a 
book by her whatever her work. 

To John and Esther Toffey were born 
three children, Polly, who married Dewitt 
Thomas; Ann, born March 12, 1821, and 
John James, who died in early manhood. 

Ann was a little slip of a girl, with pale 
blue eyes, and hair so light as to appear 
almost white. She made frequent visits to 
a devoted cousin of her mother's, Hannah 
Holloway Northrop, living in Beekman, 
who usually furnished her forth with a 
new gown, made over from her own gen- 



erous wardrobe. Ann was nine years old 
when a son, William, was born to this 
cousin Hannah, and John Hayes, then at 
work in his tailor-shop, said to little Ann, 
"Now your nose is broken; you won't 
get any more new dresses." When Ann 
returned from her next visit to Beekman, 
she could hardly wait to get her little trav- 
eling-bag open, and when John Hayes 
came in to supper, she triumphantly 
waved a pink silk dress before his eyes, 
exclaiming: 

"Now, is my nose broken! " 

Ann first attended the school then 
standing opposite the present site of 
Mizzen-Top Hotel. To this school also 
went Wm. Henry Akin, Miss Mary Akin, 
Olive Toffey (who later became the wife 
of Admiral Worden), and others. Mrs. 
Hayes took great pride in recalling those 
early school days, and she must have in- 
herited some of her mother's gift of narra- 
tion for she made the scenes very vivid 
and real. One of her favorite recollections 
of those early school days was of Timothy 
Akin, great uncle to her, and to Margaret 
and Olive Toffey. He idolized "little 
Ollie." There stands a stone in the valley 
marked "Timothy Akin, aged 91," but so 

6 



well did Mrs. Hayes tell the story that in- 
stead of lying low in the valley, for me, he 
ever sits on a big stone at the top of the hill, 
watching the little figure of Olive Toffey 
as she comes down to school with books 
and dinner pail. And he is there to meet 
her in the afternoon as she returns. 

It was in this school that Ann Toffey 
received her only punishment as a pupil. 
She had spent the noon hour playing 
around the school yard with her little 
mates. Just five minutes before school 
would "take up" again she started home 
to get something to eat. She met Miss 
Holloway, the teacher, returning from her 
lunch. ''Where are you going, Ann .^^ " 
inquired the teacher. Little Ann, thinking 
she had passed beyond hearing, murmured, 
"That's my business." She got a bite of 
bread and butter and was back in her seat 
when school began, and it was with great 
interest she heard the teacher say, "There 
is a little girl present whom I must reprove 
for her impolite conduct." She looked 
around to see who it would be and imag- 
ine her surprise when she herself was led 
forward, seated on the dunce stool and 
adorned with leathern spectacles. 

Later the school house was moved to a 



site opposite and somewhat north of the 
present school house; Lydia Hollo way, the 
teacher, comes down to us with this repu- 
tation: "Some pupils did not like her, but 
she made them learn." 

She did more than perform the routine 
expected in every district school; she 
devoted her spare time and all her noon 
hours to preparing copy books for her 
pupils, each different, being the outline of 
some study pursued by the learner. For 
instance, Miss Mary Akin's began with 
early English History, and when she had 
completed her writing - book, it was a 
synopsis of her favorite study. 

The foundation laid by this true teacher, 
when built upon by the instruction of 
Hiram Jones, in his famous school, gave to 
these early children of Quaker Hill a truly 
liberal education, Ann Toffey attended 
the Jones school in the summer session. 

A cousin thus writes of Ann Toffey: **A 
loving, confiding, trusting child, she grew 
to womanhood with the same nature. On 
her young shoulders fell cares, and through 
life it was always the same." The mother's 
health was none the best after her son's 
death. The sister, Polly, married Dewitt 
Thomas and went to Delaware County and 

8 



later to Brooklyn to live; her family of five 
sons and a daughter Vv^ere very dear to 
their aunt, Mrs. Hayes; she liked to tell of 
the stage journeys to Poughkeepsie and on 
to Delaware County to visit the beloved 
sister and help in sewing for the little lads. 
About 1849 she married the man of her 
choice, John Hayes, who built for her a 
large addition to the east of the house. He 
was a smart man with many sterling qual- 
ities, and one great fault; a man of such 
good judgment that, although a tailor by 
trade, Albert J. Akin was glad to take him 
with him when going on a trip to buy cat- 
tle. This marriage was not a successful 
union. Ann's love for her husband, which 
we have evidence was deep and devoted, 
conflicted with her love for her parents 
and the duty she felt she owed them. She 
never left her early home, where she 
seemed to be so much needed. John 
Hayes drifted away and finally died in the 
west. To her dearest and most confiden- 
tial friends she never spoke of her heart's 
experience, but she tasted deeply both the 
Joys and sorrows of love, which helped to 
give her quick sympathy and understand- 
ing with others. 

Her father was no business man and 



while others with whom he was associated 
in enterprises prospered, his means dwin- 
dled away, and it required the utmost care 
and exertion on the part of his wife and 
daughter, Ann, to save a living to them. 
For over forty years Ann was postmistress 
of Quaker Hill, or had oversight of the 
mail. 

The "house on the corner" was always a 
desirable one for boarding. During the 
civil war, Mrs. Admiral Worden, with her 
little family, made here her home, in the 
anxious days when her husband was in 
the naval service. Mrs. Lew Wallace, a 
niece of Aunt Esther's, was always glad to 
spend her summers in this home. 

The father died and then the sister, left 
widowed, returned home with her sons. 

Mrs. Hayes was very proud of her bril- 
liant mother and of her sister Polly. She 
was anxious to have them sit at ease, en- 
tertaining their guests and friends, while 
she took upon herself the duties of a Mar- 
tha, ever ready to serve. Aunt Esther 
wrote verses, and one of Mrs. Hayes' 
greatest treasures was a scrap-book in 
which her mother and sister had collected 
favorite poems and written some original 
ones. I am indebted to Mrs. Ann Vail 

lO 



for the following verses, composed by Mrs. 
Esther Toffey for her daughter Ann: 

Far over the hill tops above the high moun- 
tain, 
The King of the country hath made me 
an heir. 
1 shall roam his bright palace and bathe in 
his fountain. 
What pleasures untold are awaiting me 
there! 

Every plant of the earth that had fragrance 
or beauty, 
The angels have carried and transplanted 
there: 
And I have got one who makes goodness a 
duty. 
Which will give her to spend an eternity 
there. 

The mother, Esther Toffey, died July 12, 
1 879. A cousin who was there writes thus 
of that sad time: — 

"The day before she was buried, I was 
asked if 1 would go in the room with all 
who called to see Auntie. I did by actual 
count go in with eighty different ones. I 
was very tired at night and had dropped 
down on the couch to rest. Ann came and 
said there was a man in the kitchen want- 
ed to see Auntie. I went out and there 
stood a big burly Irishman. It was nine 
o'clock. 1 took a candle and went the 
back way to the parlor. He stood looking 

II 



at her: the first I noticed he took first one 
coat sleeve and then the other and wiped 
the tears from his eyes ; then looking at 
me said, ' She was good to everyone, even 
to the hkes of me.' That to me was the 
greatest tribute of respect paid her that 
day; and I think many both high and low, 
can say of Ann Hayes, 'She was good to 
everyone, even to the likes of me.'" 

"Good to everyone,'" that seems to be 
the keynote of Ann Hayes' character, good- 
ness that was attractive and effective. Her 
mother writes of her as one who made 
" goodness a duty." Her friend and cous- 
in, Mrs. Lew Wallace, sends this tribute to 
her : — 

" Beyond all men and women I have 
known, Anne Toffey Hayes illustrated the 
power there is in goodness. She was not 
endowed with gifts to command the ad- 
miration of the crowd, was not ambitious 
to appear well in society, never sang a song 
for strangers, and when our love began had 
left behind the graces that wait on early 
youth. Her outer life was an every day 
story; yet was there a daily beauty in it. 
sweet as the voice 

— ** Of a hidden brook 

In the leafy month of June, 

That to the sleeping woods all night 
Singeth a quiet tune." 

"In this age of dissatisfied, complaining 
women, beset with restless fancies, it is 

12 



very pleasant to recall one I knew through 
many years, who never spoke a word of 
fretfulness or discontent. Her influence 
was an abiding sweetness that filled the old 
house on the corner, like eastern perfume. 
Often have I gone to her for comfort and 
was given the room, like the blessed one 
in the stately Palace called Beautiful, where 
the old Pilgrim slept, and Mercy dreamed 
her glorious dream ; its window opened 
toward the sun rising ; the name of the 
chamber was Peace." 

To each person coming to this life-long 
home of hers, she seemed to give just what 
they needed. Her cousin, Mrs. Wheeler, 
thus tells of her first visits to Quaker Hill:— 

"The arrival at Aunt E.'s after a long 
tedius ride on the cars was welcomed with 
joy by a restless child. How vividly I re- 
call with what impatience 1 watched for the 
last turn in the long hill that would bring 
us in sight of the white house where, in 
spite of wind or weather, Cousin Ann was 
always on the horse-block to meet us. To 
all who knew and remember Aunt E. 
her strong personality needs no comment, 
and her welcome and hospitality is not to 
be forgotten ; but it is the patient, modest 
little figure in the background (during her 
mother's lifetime) that stands out even be- 
yond the cleverness of the mother. 

" It would take altogether too much 
time to relate instances that come trooping 
to my mind of Cousin Ann's unselfishness 

13 



and kindness during those visits ; her con- 
stant effort to do something for one's 
pleasure and comfort. It was Cousin Ann 
who played games with us, kept an end- 
less supply of cookies on hand, always had 
little kittens ready for us in the woodhouse; 
and even the rainy days were ones of de- 
light in the endless resources of the attic. 

"Then how I recall later when we 
moved up as neighbors, herthoughtfulness 
and kindness to my mother, at that time a 
confirmed invalid ! Cousin Ann possessed 
wonderful ability to be the friend and com- 
panion of old and young alike. I was at 
the time of our coming back as residents 
of Quaker Hill in the height of my girlhood, 
and yet there was no one I would go to 
with my joys and sorrows sooner than 
Cousin Ann. Did any young people come 
to our house as visitors, it was one of my 
first thoughts for their pleasure to take 
them to see Cousin Ann. Who of the 
privileged cannot recall those evenings, the 
never-to-be-forgotten book of fortune, the 
raspberry vinegar and delicious cake, and 
above all the society of Ann herself replete 
with stories of her younger days." 

1 quote at length from Mrs. Wheeler's 
letter, because I believe that many a child 
and young person will see their own ex- 
perience reflected in what she says. Mrs. 
Hayes liked to see every one about her 
happy ; she was very indulgent to the boys 
who visited her: there are stories that they 

14 



even went so far as to throw biscuits at 
one another without remonstrance from 
the gentle hostess! One who called upon 
her on a stormy winter night tells that 
from the kitchen came sounds of a great 
frolic. Mrs. Hayes gently opened thesHde 
from the china closet into the kitchen, 
where behold was a wonderful pyramid of 
boys, Will Wheeler, the Toffey cousins, 
and that little elf, Walter Hunter, dancing 
on top! A soft little laugh and the gleam 
in her eyes showed that her heart was as 
young as theirs. 

She was one of the rare persons who al- 
ways have something ready to give, at 
times being generous almost to a fault. 
Her book of valued recipes had become 
quite dilapidated through long years of use 
and the girls decided to copy it into a new 
book for her. The work was nearly com- 
pleted and Mrs. Hayes was displaying the 
neatly written pages to a visitor one day. 
The lady expressed such admiration of the 
book, that Mrs. Hayes presented it to her, 
and continued to use the old worn out 
copy herself. 

She was able to enter into the feehngs 
and life of young and old, rich and poor, 
with perfect understanding and grace, dig- 



nified and at ease with persons of promi- 
nence and of high social position; never 
patronizing or condescending to those of 
humble birth and ways, who loved her 
and appreciated her unselfish and kindly 
interest in them and their affairs. 

To her later years fell the care of her 
grand-nieces, Lily and Annie Thomas, a 
charge which she faithfully carried as all 
others that fell on her shoulders: and as 
she looks down from Heaven today she 
sees a woman in a noble profession, who 
owes her sweet, generous character and 
conscientious fulfillment of duty, largely to 
the influence of this great-aunt. 

When she died, many felt as one strong 
man, often under her roof, expressed it, — 

" I have lost the best friend I ever had." 

Mrs. Wallace writes of her: **We be- 
lieve the tender care devoted to those near- 
est her is not lost; and in the possibilities of 
eternity may be needed in the hereafter. 

**We fancy her awaiting them in the 
place prepared for her, a little apart from the 
innumerable company in bright array; per- 
haps in one of the 

— * * Palaces of ivory, 
Its windows crystal clear." 

of which old Bonar quaintly sang. In the 
16 



light not of the sun, neither of the moon, 
we see her beyond the fields of fadeless as- 
phodel, under the waving palms, beside the 
still waters bordered with silver lilies. 
These may be figures, but they bear a pre- 
cious meaning to yearning hearts made for 
the deep household loves. The deepest ex- 
perience of her life was disappointment; the 
law of her living was self denial: to minis- 
ter, not to be ministered unto. She had 
looked through infinite sorrow and found 
infinite peace: unknown to herself, she 
was one of the great company scattered 
through the earth, who are priests unto 
God, — ministering between the divine One 
who has unveiled Himself unto them, and 
those who yet stand in the outer courts of 
the great sanctuary of truth and holiness. 
Her crown was of thorns; she walked the 
earth with bleeding feet, not comprehend- 
ing the work she was doing, and faded 
from sight unnoticed by the great world, as 
a spent wave of the sea, leaving no sign 
save a soft imprint in the hearts that held 
her." 

Yes— in the hearts that hold her yet, 
and gain inspiration for better living from 
the memory of this patient, hospitable, self- 
forgetting woman, who made "goodness 
a duty," 

n 



In her kitchen window grew a pot of 
lemon verbena: she loved to pick a sprig 
of this and carry it around with her; so 
the plant never grew very large. Her life 
was like this sweet, unassuming, lemon 
verbena, a fragrance we yet bear with us. 



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